


put your feet up to the edge, put your face in the wind

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Were you ever even trying, Brian? Or was this just a final fuck you to me and my team before you abandoned us all?”<br/>“Our team.”<br/>“No. It isn't. You're not one of us anymore.”<br/>“Tim-”<br/>“Just take your stuff and leave. Please.”</p><p>Title taken from Every Storm (Runs out of Rain) by Gary Allan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put your feet up to the edge, put your face in the wind

**Author's Note:**

> Yes this paints Weezy as a bad guy. No I don't hate him and no I don't consider him as the source of all that's wrong with the universe. Haters to the left.

“Were you ever even trying, Brian? Or was this just a final fuck you to me and my team before you abandoned us all?”

“Our team.”

“No. It isn't. You're not one of us anymore.”

“Tim-”

“Just take your stuff and leave. Please.”

Tim turns his back on Brian, walks down the hall into the kitchen. Ezra is napping in a portable crib, quiet and peaceful and so oblivious to the fact that his daddy's world is falling apart around him. Not that Tim is letting it show. He'd calmly and neatly packed all of Brian's possessions into boxes. He'd stacked them out on the front porch, putting the last one in place just as Brian was coming home from a meeting. A meeting to take him away from Tim, away from a child he'd said he wanted to help raise.

Tim is pretty proud of himself really. He's managed to keep himself under control, calm and collected. He hadn't thrown Brian's things out of the window, even though he had so badly wanted to. He doesn't leave the kitchen, just sits at the table with his phone and a mug that has almost as much whiskey as coffee in it. He's almost drunk when he hears the kitchen door creak open. He doesn't turn around, doesn't acknowledge Brian's quiet and inefficient apology. He pretends not to notice Brian whispering goodbye to Ezra and pressing a kiss to his hair. Minutes later, Tim hears the front door slam shut. He gets on his feet and goes to the living room to watch Brian's loaded down truck pull away from the curb.

For a long time after the truck has disappeared from sight, he just stares out the window. The fog has burned away by the time he moves, going upstairs with the baby monitor clipped to his belt. He packs a suitcase for him and a bag for Ezra, calls a cab because he wouldn't drive drunk period, much less with his little boy with him. He's sitting on the steps with his bags at his feet and Ezra's car seat next to him. The cab driver helps with his bags while he straps Ezra's car seat in and makes small talk on the way to SFO. He has a Giants logo dangling from the rear view mirror. He gives Tim more than one curious look, eyes occasionally shifting to Ezra's car seat.

Tim's pretty sure the guy has figured out that Ezra is his son. He'd have to be an idiot not to, his son is practically his clone. But the man says nothing. When Tim is getting out at the airport, he gets Tim's luggage and gets a luggage cart, taking payment and tip without fuss. He stops Tim when he starts to walk away, quietly tells Tim that whatever happened, he's sorry. Tim wonders if he's that easy to read. He whispers a thank you and walks into the airport with his eyes stinging sharply. They don't clear until he's seated on a flight to Seattle, his son sitting in his lap and staring around quietly.

The flight home is short, only a couple hours, and it's still light out when they walk out of SEATAC. They rent a car, an SUV that's supposed to have a high safety rating, though Tim knows the guy just sucked him into getting something more expensive. Not that it matters, he's got money to burn and more important things to think about. He glances back in the rear view frequently, making sure his son looks happy. Ezra is the best thing in his life right now. His son catches him looking and smiles. It's contagious and Tim can't help but smile back. He used to wonder why the guys with kids could smile on the worst days. He gets it now.

There's a little bit of fear when he pulls into his dad's driveway in Renton. He's home and hopefully he's home alone. Tim balances Ezra on his hip and knocks, waits for his dad to answer the door. His dad beams at him but it turns to confusion when he sees Ezra. Tim swallows hard, gives his father a scared look before silently gesturing into the house. His dad nods and stands back and Tim heads straight to the kitchen. It's where they've had all their most important conversations, from where Tim was going to go to college and that his parents were getting a divorce and if he really should sign with the Giants. The kitchen table is safe.

His dad cracks open two sodas and slides one over to Tim. Tim nods and takes a drink, staring at Ezra's hair. His father clears his throat. “So. That's my grandson.”

“Yeah.” Tim says quietly. “You um, you remember I was having a hard time. For a while, back in 2010.”

“I do. How's that add up to that little guy?”

“There was this woman. I was drunk, lonely, we spent a weekend together and I gave her my number. Felt like I had to. But we never talked again. For a while.”

“And?” His dad prompts him.

“She called me two weeks ago. Told me she was sorry but she just couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't be a mom, she thought she could but she couldn't.” Tim says raggedly. “I know she tried hard. But she didn't have it in her. Wasn't maternal. I've got a history of women like that in my life. But I told her okay. I told her it was fine, I'd take him, she could see him whenever she wanted.”

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?” His dad asks quietly. He reaches out and takes Ezra. Tim reluctantly lets go. His son looks up at his dad, giggles and hugs his neck. His father looks thrilled and it makes Tim smile. “I would have understood.”

“I was going to. Me and Brian... we were going to come up in a week or two, surprise you.” Tim answers, his voice flat. “But I know you heard what happened. I packed his things, put them on the porch and told him to leave. He was abandoning me. He was abandoning who he said he was going to treat as his son too. He lied about it all. He was just screwing with people. And I know Bochy is going to try and get him back but I'm not taking it. I'm not doing that. I deserve better than the lies, the secrets, all of it.”

“I'm proud of you.”

Tim blinks. His dad just chuckles and reaches out, squeezing his shoulder. “Why are you proud of me?”

“Because not so long ago, you didn't think you were all that important. You would have taken any kind of ill behavior and abuse from a boyfriend. And now look at you, throwing your fiance out for wrecking your lives without consulting you. I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks...”

“You're welcome. Now, get up, you're making dinner. I'll walk you through it but mostly I'm gonna be playing with this little guy.”

“Yessir.”

Tim knows that it's a standing joke and snark with people from other teams, people that don't like him, that he's always running to his dad and expecting his dad to fix his problems. And sure, he's close to his dad and sometimes he does wish that his dad could just make everything go away. But he thinks that's pretty true of anyone, to wish that they were a kid again and for there to be no responsibilities, for someone else to have to be in charge and take care of things.

For that reason, he's pretty shameless about skipping his million dollar condo in favor of sleeping in his old bedroom at his dad's house with his son. His dad has a lot of time on his hands since retiring, mostly putters around the house and does home improvement projects, builds things in his garage. Tim listens to his messages that night and cries himself to sleep. He spends the entire next day in bed, waking up late in the evening to his dad cooking dinner and singing to a giggly Ezra. There's a wooden crib on the back porch.

“Dad...?”

“Well you slept all day. Couldn't stop everything I was working on just because you were being lazy.” His father says indifferently, though Tim can see the ghost of a smile on his face. “Wash your son up for dinner. He helped grandpa varnish his new bed.”

Tim nods slowly and scoops his son up, carrying him to the sink to wash his hands and face. It sets the tone for the next few days. Tim sleeps a lot and his dad spoils Ezra completely rotten. His family drops in and out as news of his boy spreads. Most of the time he finds an excuse to be out of the house, going for a jog. He gets his workout plan from the trainers, makes a face at the bolded, underlined and exclamation pointed admonition for him to gain some weight. He takes it to heart, loading up on carbs and eating whatever the hell he wants. He's about as happy as he's going to get under the current circumstances.

He's been at his dad's house for a week when he's forced out of the house one night. He's fidgeting, glancing back to Ezra multiple times and anxiously telling his father that it can wait, he's fine, he doesn't need a night out. But his dad laughs and says that he can take care of his grandson without traumatizing him. Tim hesitates and nods before climbing into his rental, sighing when his father tells him to sleep at his own house tonight, he's not letting him in. He backs out of the driveway and heads into Seattle.

He knows his father means well, that this is his dad's way of getting Tim back in the saddle and into the world again instead of hiding in his childhood bedroom and jogging through his old neighborhood. He hooks his phone up to the blue tooth and the video screen in the SUV. He gets multiple calls from friends that he mostly pushes off. It's not that he doesn't want to see anyone, it's that he doesn't know what to do with himself. He finally accepts an invitation when it seems like they're not going to give up.

The club is dark, smoke filled, crowded. He wades through the sea of people to a corner booth, manages a smile when his friends cheer and greet him with hugs. He slips his card to the hostess because he always ends up picking everyone's tab up anyway. It's what he gets for being the rich and famous one, a small price to pay for getting to do what he loves. He parks himself in the corner and starts on the vodka.

It's not long before he's drunk... when the joints are passed around, he doesn't say no. He makes himself draw the line when the coke comes out and he carefully slides out of the booth. Last thing he needs is to be busted for the hardcore stuff. His friends are on their own. He moves to the bar, shouts his name to the bartender and signs the slip for the tab. Thousands of dollars. He sees the hostess snapping a picture of the receipt. She's probably planning on tweeting it. He'll get his revenge later.

It's cold outside. He pushes his hands into his pockets and ducks his head against the wind. His building is only a few blocks away, no sense in calling a cab when he can walk home. He can come back for the car in the morning.

The lobby of his building is crowded and the lights feel too bright to his sore and aching eyes. He wonders what's going on, they're all dressed so fancy. Story of his life, lost in a sea of beautiful people that are out of his class and out of his league. He laughs to himself, winds his way through the crowd and into an elevator, punching in the code for his floor. He leans against the wall, eyes slipping shut and already he's wishing he hadn't had quite so much to drink. He's going to have a wicked hangover in the morning. He frowns when he reaches his apartment. The concierge has it cleaned regularly but it still has that strange smell that it hasn't been inhabited in far too long. It's so big, so empty.

He grabs two bottles of water and curls up on the couch, draining half a bottle in one go with a couple of Tylenol. He clicks the TV on and surfs through the channels until he finds It's A Wonderful Life playing. Every time it's on during the holidays he finds himself having to watch it. Brian had always snorted and shaken his head, found something else to do. On reflection, it says a lot about their relationship. They'd been alike in a lot of ways but communication was often lacking. Brian hadn't found a lot of the same things important, not the way Tim did. He didn't always tell Tim what was going on with him, what was going through his head. From that perspective, what had happened with his being non-tendered really shouldn't have surprised Tim the way it did.

It doesn't matter though, not anymore. He doesn't have to think about how he maybe could have done things differently because his relationship with Brian won't be fixed. It's beyond repair, he's not going to be able to trust Brian again. He'd meant it when he told his father that he wasn't forgiving Brian for this one, for being ready to abandon a family he'd been ready to promise til death do part with. Tim snorts bitterly and starts in on his second bottle of water.

It's taking a lot of will power not to either call a cab or get the concierge to find him a driving service and get himself back out to Renton. He's lonely and he misses his son so bad he can barely stand it. When he'd met Eliza to take Ezra with him, he never thought that he would get attached so quickly. The first few days were a nightmare, Tim completely out of his element and Ezra missing his mother. They've done okay since then, and Brian had helped a lot, a grounding element while Tim adjusted to a new and mind blowing situation. Tim considers it a small mercy that his son hasn't seemed to notice Brian's sudden absence from his life.

It's not fair, none of any of this is. Tim had come out of the post season a world series champion, anticipating marrying someone he loved and living happily ever after. He's still got someone he loves more than life itself and he wouldn't give Ezra up for anything. He just wishes things had happened a little differently.

He falls asleep on the couch and wakes up with the sun in his eyes and a killer hangover. He forces down more Tylenol, another bottle of water and a few pieces of toast before showering and changing. He walks the few blocks to the club and retrieves the rental, stops at Starbucks before getting on the road back to Renton. The in dash monitor is playing and reading his messages out to him. He shrugs off the ones from his teammates with a feeling of guilt, knowing that they're just worried about him after the breakup with Brian. He resolves to at least call Lopez back. He'd been really good to Tim during the post season, always making sure he was okay, wasn't overwhelmed.

The front door is open when he reaches the house and he can hear The Bold and the Beautiful on the TV as he lets himself inside. He opens his mouth to tease his dad about his soap opera problem but he stops short when Ezra, sitting in his dad's lap in the recliner, sees him. His son's entire face lights up and he throws his little arms open wide, chirping 'Daddy!' as he bounces in his dad's lap. Tim pushes his sunglasses up on top of his head, easing down into the floor next to his dad's chair. He reaches up and takes Ezra, giving him a hopeful look. Ezra giggles and hugs his neck.

“Yeah. I'm your daddy... missed you too little man.” He murmurs, kissing Ezra's hair. He feels his dad's hand in his hair and he smiles. He stays in the floor for the rest of the show.

He spends two more days hiding out at his dad's house before deciding it's time to stop being a coward and face the world. He hugs his dad goodbye, promises to call and send pictures of Ezra before getting into his rental to go back to the airport. Back to San Francisco, back to the real world. He's a little scared. Aside from those first three days, he hasn't been alone with his son, hasn't had to do any of this by himself. Okay, forget a little scared. He's absolutely terrified. He hopes to whatever divine power is listening that he doesn't screw this up.

It's not as bad as he anticipates. He fesses up to Cain and Lopez first. First they let loose their wrath at him for trying to deal with everything on his own and then they offer help that he doesn't refuse. He's ratted out to Bochy, who smacks him upside the head and tells him to call if he needs anything. Word spreads slowly and presents start trickling in from teammates past and present. The box from Pablo is especially massive, loaded with clothes and toys. Tim snaps a picture of Ezra in a Team Venezuela shirt, clinging to Tim's neck and giggling. It was meant for Pablo but he finds himself sending it to all his friends and family.

It's an accident when the picture is leaked. Tim knows it is. He doesn't even get mad, in spite of Pablo's abject fear that he is. It was just a twitter blooper, Pablo meaning to DM the picture to Molina and accidentally posting it for the world to see. It could be worse, Tim figures. His son is cute as hell and it's a lot easier dealing with this now than it would be during the regular season. He lets his publicist deal with it mostly, says little other than that he hadn't found out about his boy until a little while after the series. He lets Baggs have a few pictures, gives a short interview that mostly amounts to a Q&A about life as a dad. It's easy, comfortable and the other fathers on the team that have been helping him along give him a general thumbs up about how he's handled the situation. It doesn't make sense.

It's not just about him anymore. He has to think about how the things he does effects his son, his son's well being. Ezra is more important than baseball. He tells Cain that over lunch and receives a soft smile in return, Cain patting him on the shoulder and telling him that's how it's supposed to be.

He should have expected what came next. He's over Brian, mostly, even if he feels kind of lonely sometimes. He should have known that his friends were going to start trying to set him up. He gets out of the first date before it starts when he figures out what's going on. Cain and Lopez are disappointed and even a little irritated but promise that they'll warn him and actually ask him next time, instead of just springing it on him. He mostly continues to resist. He's doing just fine with the man he's already got in his life. That excuse only satisfies for so long before Cain, Lopez and Pablo descend on him together, informing him that he's going to go out and spend an evening with someone other than his son. The 'or else' is unspoken but comes in loud and clear. He cusses and mutters to himself the entire time he's cleaning up and getting ready. The way they clap and hoot when he comes down the stairs just irritates him further.

He picks Ezra up, gives his son a kiss before handing him back to Pablo. They tell him what restaurant to go to, to look for a guy in a black button up wearing an orange bracelet and that there may or may not be flowers. Tim groans and promises to kill them later, telling his son goodbye before heading out the door. He hates to leave. He doesn't want to do this.

The restaurant is an unfamiliar one and it's exterior doesn't exhibit much promise. He makes himself go inside. He'll never hear the end of it from the guys if he doesn't and besides, it'd be awful of him to just stand the guy up. The thought makes him pause. A couple months ago, he wouldn't have cared. He'd just have left without caring what happened to the person waiting inside. Apparently being a father has matured him. A little bit, anyway.

He goes inside and shrugs off the seating hostess, telling her that he's meeting someone. The restaurant is small but dark and it takes him two passes to spot the button up and bracelet he'd been told to look for. He takes a breath and crosses the restaurant, sliding into the booth across from the guy. When the man looks up, Tim swears more loudly than is acceptable in public before clamping a hand over his mouth. He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly. This is insane. Matt Cain, Javier Lopez and Pablo Sandoval are dead men. Tim is going to have to find new godfathers for Ezra.

Across from him, Brandon Belt is laughing. Tim cracks an eye and looks at him. Belt just shrugs and smiles. “Well, I wasn't expecting to see you either.”

“Not sure if I want to know what they told you to get you to do this.” Tim mutters, flatly telling the waitress that he wants a screwdriver before waving her off.

“Single father. Cute. Funny. Charming when he wants to be." Belt smiles. Tim snorts.

“Sorry to disappoint. Maybe we should cut this short.”

“I'd rather not. After all... they didn't lie to me.”

Personally, Tim thinks that this situation is completely ridiculous. A blind date is bad enough but a blind date with a teammate is worse. Throw in the fact that it's with someone as beautiful and adorably awkward as Brandon freaking Belt and he might as well be in wonderland. Tim doesn't see how this could at all work but Belt wants him to stay. Tim might as well have dinner with him. He likes Belt well enough during the season. He can handle sharing a meal with the guy. There's worse people in the world he could be with.

He's surprised how much he actually enjoys himself. The food and booze are good and the company is even better. Belt might be awkward but he's still funny as hell and so smart that he makes Tim feel a little dim in comparison. He talks about home and his family almost reverently, the same way Tim catches himself talking about Ezra sometimes. Tim shows off a picture before he can stop himself and Belt tells him, like so many people have, that Ezra might as well be his clone. Tim turns his phone back to himself, looks at the picture of Ezra pressing a smooch to his lips, a handful of Tim's hair in his tiny hand. Tim smiles at it before tucking his phone away. When he looks back up, Belt is watching him with warmth and an overwhelming amount of affection. Tim can't hide the blush.

They share a lava cake for dessert and bicker over the bill, Belt snatching it and telling Tim that he'll tell Cain, Lopez and Sandoval that he was stood up if Tim doesn't let him pay for dinner. Tim grumbles and allows it, bumps Belt with his shoulder as they walk down the street after leaving the restaurant. Belt shrugs, laughs and tells Tim that he can get the tab on the next date. Tim pauses and turns to look up at Belt, who is attempting to look innocent and failing miserably. Tim rolls his eyes and says okay, he'll pay next time. Belt's only response is a smile and a kiss.


End file.
